


every sunrise (the diamond dust remix)

by dedkake



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gay Mutant Road Trip, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/pseuds/dedkake
Summary: "You didn't need to feel jealous. You never need to feel jealous."





	every sunrise (the diamond dust remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fullmetalcarer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Diamond Dust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352220) by [Fullmetalcarer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/pseuds/Fullmetalcarer). 



> Summary quoted from original fic. Story inspired by a short bit in the middle of the original fic referencing the past.

The pale light of the sunrise seeps in around the edges of the curtains as Charles’s fingers spread warm over Erik’s side, a breath of a laugh ghosting over his neck. “I could get used to this.”

“Which part?” Erik kicks at the scratchy hotel blanket wrapped around their feet until it falls to the floor. The room is too warm by far even without the damn blanket. “Poorly laundered sheets or no air circulation in the room?”

This time Charles’ laughter is from his chest, quiet still, but deeper. “For someone who’s been on the run and undercover for most of his life, you’re awfully picky about where you sleep.”

Erik grunts. Clearly Charles has no experience being on the run—it’s hard to give up any luxury at this point. “At least undercover I was able to pretend to be a rich man and stay in rich hotels,” he says, pushing his hair off his sticky forehead for some minor relief.

“I’ll have to take you to one of those sometime,” Charles murmurs, his lips pressed against Erik’s neck. “Because I was referring to lying in bed with you—something I’m sure would be just as marvelous in a five-star hotel as it is here.”

Marvelous isn’t quite the right word, Erik decides, twisting himself around so he has Charles pinned to the bed. Glorious, maybe. Magnificent.

The kiss they share is slow, matching the thick air of the room, burning and tender at once. Charles moans into it, his fingers digging into Erik’s skin as he rolls his hips up to meet him.

Spectacular.

“Damn.” The word is short, like it’s been punched out of Charles’ chest rather than spoken. He drops his head back to the pillows heavily, his fingers coming up from Erik’s side to cup his cheek instead.

“Sarah’s already waiting for us,” he says, patting Erik’s cheek lightly. “This will have to wait.”

Before Erik can respond, Charles rolls out from under him and stumbles to the bathroom. Erik sinks back into the mattress, burying his face in the pillows so he doesn’t have to look at the curtain that hides the diner across the street.

It’s not that he’s not interested in meeting new mutants. He _is_ interested. Now that he knows there are others, finding them is almost as important to him as finding Shaw. And with those goals, he knows Charles’ shining future with expensive hotel beds does not exist.

But in the wake of Charles’ warmth, he finds himself lingering. 

-

Erik wants to focus on the moment, on finding and recruiting another mutant to their cause, but Charles is distracting. Charles isn’t even saying anything as the cross the busy street to the diner, but Erik can almost feel his mind buzzing with anticipation.

They’d found Sarah the evening before, but she’d been busy at work as a nurse in the local hospital. It had been easy to convince her to meet with them, unlike the last woman they’d met, who’d been suspicious the entire time.

Sarah’s waiting for them in a booth with three coffees already. She can’t be more than twenty but she’s beautiful and confident and doesn’t look a bit nervous as Charles and Erik take their seats across from her.

“Good morning,” Charles says, eyes dancing in the weak light of the diner. “I apologize for the delay. I have a horrible time getting up in the mornings, especially warm ones like today.”

Erik would comment otherwise, but Charles is already moving on with the conversation before anyone can contribute. “Why don’t we get started right away. Show us what you can do.”

“Right here?” Sarah asks, her knuckles turning white as she grips her coffee mug. The diner is loud and bustling around them and Sarah glances over her shoulder to see if anyone is watching.

Charles grins. “Don’t worry about that, darling,” he says, barely sparing the rest of the diner’s occupants a glance as he taps his forehead lightly. “They won’t notice a thing.”

Almost any display of Charles’ power leaves Erik breathless and he has to swallow back his desire to lean over and kiss him right there in the restaurant. Only Sarah would notice, but even that is one too many and it would distract from the real reason they’re here. Erik shifts in his seat instead, hoping Charles will at least share a mental moment with him.

Charles doesn’t even seem to notice, his entire attention shifting between Sarah’s face and her coffee. Erik ignores the flutter of annoyance in his stomach.

“It’s nothing too special,” Sarah says, her grip tightening on her coffee cup. In seconds, the coffee inside is boiling, almost bubbling over the top.

Erik finds himself smiling. It’s a small power, nothing showy, but it’s a power nonetheless and Erik feels an acute sense of pride at the sight. There are so many mutants in the world, so many varied powers and people and he loves every second of discovering them.

“Extraordinary,” Charles breathes, his grin as bright as Erik has ever seen. Sarah can’t look away from it and Erik can’t blame her. “I’d say special is exactly the word you should use.”

A flush spreads over Sarah’s cheeks at this. “It’s useful in the kitchen, at least.”

“Very useful, I should think,” Charles says, still full of wonder. “And in cold weather, too.”

Erik stirs his own coffee with a spoon he’s not touching and can’t stop the smirk on his lips as Sarah stares, fascinated. “Just because something is practical doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

Charles is nodding next to him, but his attention is still focused entirely on Sarah. “You’d be surprised how often telepathy gets in the way.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t want to know what my mother is thinking most of the time,” Sarah says, still smiling.

The conversation turns to Sarah’s family, her baby boy, her mother, her ailing grandmother, all living together to make ends meet. Erik knows immediately that she won’t come with them, and isn’t surprised when she shakes her head at Charles’ offer.

He’s almost relieved that they can wrap up the interview and return to their hotel, where he can make Charles finish what he’d started earlier. The relief is paired with something like guilt. He should be more invested in Sarah, in their mission, but watching Charles interact with this young mutant has stirred something inside him and he wants to follow it through.

Charles, however, isn’t moving. “Do you mind me asking a few more questions?” Charles asks, leaning forward in his seat. The waitress strolls by their table as if it’s empty.

Sarah shakes her head and smiles back. Erik feels his skin prickle with distaste at something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Charles, I’m sure she has places she needs to be,” Erik says, trying to keep his voice even.

“Nonsense,” Charles says, shooting a quick glare at Erik. “We all have the entire morning free.”

Erik settles back in his seat, defeated. He gives Sarah a tight smile as she shoots a concerned glance between them. His discomfort grows, though, as Charles leans in further across the table, almost cutting him out of the conversation.

“Does your mutation only work to warm things? Or can you cool them as well?” Charles asks.

Sarah frowns. “I’ve never tried,” she says. “It’s always come so naturally to warm things.”

Charles pushes his coffee across the table to her. “Give it a shot,” he says gently, his eyes shining bright.

Sarah wraps her fingers around the mug and focuses her entire attention on it. The moment stretches on and on and Charles remains rapt.

Erik feels as if he is too large for his skin. He’s at once fascinated by the potential of Sarah’s powers and overcome with the desire to flee.

Eventually, Sarah lets go of the mug. It’s taken a lot out of her, but she’s grinning and the mug is frosty around the edges. Charles laughs, warm and wonderful.

“Marvelous,” he exclaims. Erik feels the word like a knife. It shouldn’t matter, but it’s the word Charles had used in the early hours of the morning. It’s a word that should be for him, not Sarah, and he’s forced to face this feeling now. 

He’s jealous. Overwhelmed with it. It’s squeezing his chest and making it hard to breathe.

Charles continues, unaware. “And have you noticed whether you are changing the temperature of your fingers or of the object you’re warming?”

There’s a pause and Erik wants to yell into it. He shouldn’t feel jealous—it’s in part _because_ of the way Charles treats new mutants that Erik feels anything for him at all. 

“I’ve never really thought of it that way before,” Sarah says. She holds out her hand over the table. “What do you think?”

Charles doesn’t hesitate to take her hand in his own, his fingers large around hers. Erik has to look away.

With a quiet yelp, Charles pulls his hand away, shaking it. “I’d say you’re generating the heat right there,” he says, still grinning despite his obvious pain.

Erik excuses himself to the restroom.

Splashing water on his face, he forces down his anger. He has no use for it, not misplaced as it is. The only useful anger is anger that is directed at Shaw. This is just a complication, a distraction. And Erik has spent his entire life minimizing distractions.

When he returns to the table, Charles is standing, handing over his card.

“If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to call,” he says, still smiling, but softer now, more serious. “You or your son.”

Charles doesn’t lose his smile all the way back to the hotel, through the phone conversation to update Moira back East, to the car on the way to their next target.

Erik lets it wash over him.

-

“Imagine,” Charles says, breathless. There’s nothing around for miles except open country and the occasional car passing them in the other direction, and still Charles’ attention is elsewhere.

Erik tries to focus on the feel of the wheel beneath his fingers, the metal of the car, the telephone wire along the road beside them—anything but the silence that follows Charles’ statement.

“I can imagine a lot of things,” he says when the silence stretches on too long.

Charles turns to look at him, his focus _finally_ back on Erik. Something inside Erik loosens, unwinds from a coil Erik had barely recognized. “The imagination of Erik Lehnsherr is something I will never tire of discovering,” Charles says, his smile turning sultry.

Erik turns his eyes back to the road. That is a dangerous line of conversation to follow while driving. “Still thinking about Sarah?” he asks, hating the way the name feels on his tongue.

“Yes,” Charles says softly, his gaze sliding back to his window. Erik’s chest is tight again, almost painfully so. They never had continued their tryst from the morning. “Yes and no.”

The words hang for a moment before Charles lets out a long breath and continues. “Imagine if this was our entire life. Driving across the country, staying in cheap hotels, talking to mutants, letting them know they’re not alone, helping them understand their powers. Waking up each morning next to each other to start over again.”

And Erik can imagine it that way, or near enough. He could even be happy living a life like that—even with the constant diversion of Charles’ attention to others. The jealousy would be nothing if he could wake each morning to Charles in his bed.

Charles would be there, Erik is sure of it. They’ve known each other for a matter of days and already Charles has laid out an entire future for the two of them.

This, Erik realizes, fingers tight on the wheel—this is love. It’s heavy enough to be uncomfortable, too new and too sure. He swallows down the emotion and finds he can’t say anything around it.

“We could make it happen, you know,” Charles murmurs, his hand drifting to Erik’s thigh, fingers warm through the fabric of his pants. “After we find Shaw, we could pull some strings with the CIA, make this permanent.”

But that’s just it. The entire thing is a fantasy, because there is no “after Shaw”—Erik has no time or energy to spend even imagining it.

Charles’ fingers tighten on his thigh, digging in and holding on. Erik shudders, but keeps his attention on the road ahead.

“You can want more than one thing in life, Erik,” Charles says, and Erik wonders when he’s slipped into his mind. “It doesn’t have to change anything.”

Want may not change anything, desire certainly won’t, but hope and love—those are dangerous.

Erik keeps his eyes on the road and Charles drops the conversation. In the morning, Erik wakes with Charles pressed to his side, and finds he can’t let go.


End file.
